


Boulevard of Broken Dreams

by Hanna_Tucker



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Flirting, Flirting, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna_Tucker/pseuds/Hanna_Tucker
Summary: Malcolm has a little car trouble. Luckily, he gets some help from a rather intriguing Southerner.





	Boulevard of Broken Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first modern AU, so please, NO flames! Constructive criticism is appreciated, however.

Malcolm slammed his hands down on the steering wheel in frustration. "Bloody hell!" He tried starting the car again, only to hear an awful sputter of the exhaust pipe. Then nothing. No further noises were made by the inert vehicle. The Brit let his forehead hit the steering wheel as he cursed vehemently under his breath. His father was going to be _pissed._ Malcolm lifted his head and fumbled in his pockets for his cell phone. He pulled it out and found that there was no service. "You have got to be kidding me." He checked the time being displayed on the screen. _12:56 P.M._ Yep, good ol' Mister Reed was going to be literally ripping out what little hair he had left.

A loud honking drew Malcolm's attention. He whipped his head around and spotted a small, rusty-ish pickup pulled over on the other side of the rode. "Car trouble?" the driver called as he peaked his blonde head out the open window. His voice was tinged a soft, pleasant Southern drawl. His vivid blue eyes shined bright with friendly energy, complete with a pearly white smile to match. Malcolm felt a twinge of... something. What he wasn't sure. But it was pleasant.

"Er... yes," Malcolm answered hesitantly. "I don't suppose you could help me out?" He patted his pocket to make sure his pepper spray was still there. As friendly as this man looked, he was still a stranger- and therefore should be treated with caution.

"Actually, I think I might be able to," the other man replied. "Care if I take a look?"

Malcolm assumed he meant to look under the bonnet. "I would appreciate it." He swung open the car door and stepped out. He stood by the front of his vehicle patiently as the other driver got out of his own car and made his way to Malcolm's. The Brit studied the man curiously. He was tall, a bit taller than Malcolm though not by much. The Hawaiian shirt that the stranger was wearing hurt Malcolm's eyes with its horrifically mismatched colour scheme (who in the heck wears a Hawaiian shirt in Texas anyway?), so he focused his attention on the Southerner's face.

Malcolm was struck by how well-formed this man's features were- the angular nose, the sharp yet also smooth cheekbones, and slightly chapped lips. But what drew Malcolm's attention the most were the eyes. Piercing blue. Not like the sea or a jewel, but more like a clear sky during midday.

"Alright, let's see what the problem is." The stranger opened up the bonnet and stepped away, waving his hand in front of his face as a strong wave of heat blasted towards him. "Whew! Well, I think I might already know what's wrong. Your radiator's probably overheated."

"Can you fix it?" Malcolm asked, running his fingers through his hair as he gazed anxiously at his disabled vehicle.

"What kinda question is that? 'Course I can fix it!" The Southerner went to the back of his own car and opened the boot. "Your car's an oldie, so puttin' some cool water in the radiator should fix her right up." He pulled out a cooler and proceeded to rummage around. After a moment, he returned with a canteen in his hands. "Ya might wanna stand back. When I open the radiator, it's gonna spray hot water everywhere and I wouldn't wanna see that pretty face o' yours get scorched."

Malcolm almost choked on his own spit. Did this guy really just flirt with him? The Brit pushed it out of his mind and stepped back a ways. The other man opened up the radiator and quickly jumped backwards to avoid the steaming hot spurting of water. When the radiator was empty, the man promptly refilled it. After he closed it up, he turned to look at Malcolm. "Alright, let's see if you can get her started now."

Malcolm nodded silently and got into his car. He turned the keys and was pleased to hear the engine turn on with a loud, steady hum. He looked up at his saviour and smiled slightly. "Sir... how... I don't even know how to thank you."

"Well, ya can start by callin' me Trip."

"Trip?" That was definitely not a typical name, not even for an American.

"That's what everybody calls me," Trip told him, grinning sheepishly. "I hope I'm not bein' nosy or anythin' in askin' this, but where're ya headed?"

"Houston," Malcolm answered. He didn't plan on saying any more than that, although there was a part of him that really wanted to. He had taken a liking to Trip. He felt like there was some connection there. That wasn't something that happened to Malcolm before with other people, not even with his sister Madeline.

Trip was apparently pleased by Malcolm's response. "That's funny- I'm headed there myself! Heck, maybe we'll run into each other again sometime? And maybe even grab a coffee?"

Malcolm smiled at the thought. "I'd like that."

Trip lingered for a few seconds longer, then said, "Well, see ya 'round."

"Likewise, Trip."

With that, Trip gave Malcolm's car a final pat and headed to his own car. Malcolm watched for a moment as Trip drove off, still smiling. He had the feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time they'd meet.

Malcolm certainly hoped it wasn't.


End file.
